For Your Consideration

For all I care
You may rot in hell…

But then,
Do I look inside your house
Every time I pass it by?
The incessant need
To compare,
To evaluate?
To weigh my sorrows
Against your joys?

Why do I care
If you are happy?
(Or even sad?)
Why do I wonder
If you regret
Even for a second?

When I know for sure –
That I was not wrong;
That I was untainted;
That I was only stupid.

And here’s what I don’t know –
Whether I’ll ever be truly, purely
That I will stick my nose up at you
And say, cockily
–I won!
Because I don’t think I did
© Sampada Chavan, 2017




of fingers being crossed
of hope staying afloat
of heart being lovelorn
of being world weary
and war torn

of noticing things that need to be done
of being sentient
of feelings bubbling to the surface
of hurting
of loving
of hating

that the world is a shitty place
that my son will have to live in it
that i will die without fixing it
that most don’t realize that
that you think this is stupid

so tired–

(c) Sampada Chavan, 2017


go quietly into the night,
shrouded by a cloud
of wistfulness,
wrapped in a mist,
of fear.
crouching, crawling.

look for my beacon
with the broken light,
high and mighty
in its absence,
crumbling but

wander around
not sure if i am real
or an imposter.
my feet touch the ground
but leave no footprints.

am missing from
your life and your lesson.
may i teach you something?
may i be a part
of your memory?
may I be me?

(c) Sampada Chavan, 2017

Identity Crises

I am the dart board;
Soft, but hard –
Getting stung,
Getting hit,
Time after time.

I am the drop
in the ocean.
I drown.
I disappear.
I am unknown,

I am a woman.
But used.
Always wanted,
Never needed.

(c) Sampada Chavan, 2017

She waited for him
In her dreams,
Counting the silver ripples
On the Lake of Fear.
The fog didn’t lift
From the waters
In her eyes;
It kissed the shore
And softly swayed,
With a gentle breeze
Of a blink.

She turned
On her side
In between wakefulness
And sleep,
Wrinkling the waters.
A tear escaped
From the confines
Of her eye,
And flooded
The imaginary Lake.

He floated
In the waters
Made buoyant by the saltiness
Of her tears.
In a world far away,
He shifted
His back soaked,
His lips parched.

She unclasped her hands,
And took a dive;
He woke up
To the noise
Of a splash…

© Sampada Chavan

December, 2015


A stream flows
Suddenly, freely;
And somewhere else
A Fountain dries up.
My heart beats,
To your breath;
I hold mine.
… I don’t want to wake you up
By my clumsiness;
With my foolishness,
I don’t want to break
Your beautiful mind
(And yet
It is

I search hopelessly
For words,
For a way
To capture
Your eyes
On paper.
But I am
Wrapped in silence,
Quietened by awe.
– a restless storm
Bottled up
In a fist –

I was
A free spirit,
Now tied
To your ankle.
You pull me back
When I try
To get
Stuck in a ten inch
Gleaming radius
With the center of you.


© Sampada Chavan

September, 2015


I am a parasite
On Hope
Wishing praying fingers crossing
Thinking foolishly
That the tides will turn
I live on the edge
Of needs and wants
Begging with my eyes
Never opening my mouth
I act unwisely
Doing things
Breaking my back
Lifting the weight
Of the world
For someone to notice
And to say
“Rest now,
Silly girl.
Can’t you see
You’ve done enough
And undone yourself?”

Life is
A lie.
And I’ve lied
For my life.

© Sampada Chavan

July 2015